


Name It

by Thymelady



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Abbie Mills Is Working It, F/M, Fix-it fic, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Ichababy, Ichabbie Weekend, UST, shameless Jane Austen references, that was then this is now, try to stop me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 20:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7948357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thymelady/pseuds/Thymelady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One week into their partnership, Abbie finds out some stuff about Crane. Four years later, she honours that knowledge. #AbbieMillsIsWorkingIt #IchabbieWeekend</p>
            </blockquote>





	Name It

**Author's Note:**

> My second ficlet for #IchabbieWeekend and #AbbieMillsIsWorkingIt! This is pure fluff, croissants and Starbucks, longing glances and a generally wonderful look into the future. Also, a ridicolous amount of Jane Austen. Sorry, not sorry. Headcanon: they both love Pride and Prejudice to bits. Also: Ichabbie forever. Abbie Mills forever. Deal with it.

Ichabod Crane had only been in present Sleepy Hollow for a week when his interest was piqued by Lieutenant Mills’ drivers licence. After a satisfying explanation of what it was, why it was needed and why, indeed, it had to be encased in that horrible ‘plastic’ (and being told off from trying to open it), he stared at the information on it. The strange photography that somehow managed to make the fearless Lieutenant look scared. The year of birth; 1984. Only a 235-year difference between them. Most days he felt as if she was the senior of them. Height: 5’1”, just as he had surmised. Female with brown eyes, no surprise there except for the fact that this tiny, strong female had eyes like dark nights full of stars that he always drowned in. Name…

“Grace Abigail Mills?” he said slowly.

“Yep, that’s me, Mr. Ichabod Crane Esquire,” the Lieutenant said, leaning on her hand over her desk, signing some papers that needed filing. He had to look away as soon as his eyes landed on her magnificent… backside. She straightened her back and smiled up at him. Her eyes danced and he felt as if he was pulled into a dark night, swimming with wonders and adventure again. She was dressed in a red item on her upper body, she referred to it as a ‘top’. Her dark hair fell in waves over her shoulders, the end of a shining lock rested against her bare skin on her bosom. He cleared his throat and looked at her drivers licence again.

“Beautiful,” he remarked sincerely and didn’t just refer to her name.

“If you’re hoping that flattery will persuade me to buy more doughnut holes, you’re wrong,” she said jokingly.

“Lieutenant, I wouldn’t dream of trying such a paltry trick! Besides, the meal we ‘took out’ from the Thai establishment was entirely fulfilling.”

“You’re restless, I can tell,” she said and crossed her arms over that perfect bosom.

“Well – how?” he asked bewildered.

“Your – never mind. It’s time for a break anyway. I’ll grab my jacket and we’ll go and get some Starbucks.”

“Far be it from me to reject the delicious delights of Starbuck!” Crane replied and followed her out to her car. Modern confection was dainty, spicy and so tempting. Chocolate… he was definitely in the mood for that.

Abbie smiled to herself as they walked into Starbucks and made their orders. Now and then she had to shake her head to not break out in a big smile. She had lost so much… then that tall, Revolutionary Era dude had scrambled into her life. She could still wake up, raw and scared in the dark night. Then she remembered that he was at her side in the fight (not in her bed), and that thought was enough to calm her. Like a star in that dark night. And here he strutted next to her, ramrod straight in his back, those fidgety and curious hands clasped on his back. She saw him deeply inhale the scents from the establishment and close his eyes with a contented smile. Such a dork.

Crane ordered a chocolate croissant, his fingers danced at his sides when he heard that they were fresh and warm. Once he got the paper bag with the croissant inside, he occasionally peered into it.

“Go ahead and have a bite,” Abbie said and was amused.

“Oh, I shouldn’t indulge myself like that in public!” Crane looked scandalised.

“Go on, have a taste!” she said fondly. “You know you want to.”

He gave her a naughty smirk with a lifted eyebrow before he took up the pastry. He slowly had a bite and savoured it. Maybe he was right – he shouldn’t indulge in public. It was… quite interesting.

While they waited for their beverages, and Crane had finished that bite, Abbie chanced a question.

“So, since you now know my full name and I like to make things even – Ichabod Crane; do you have a first or middle name, except for Ichabod?”

He swallowed and bowed slightly at her question, as if indicating that he was ready to answer all kinds of questions.

“Indeed, Miss Mills; my full name is Ichabod Bennet Crane.”

Abbie dropped the spoon she was playing with and stared at him. He met her gaze calmly with a raised eyebrow.

“Bennet? One t or two?”

“One. It is, as you might now, a medieval version of the name Benedict, meaning –”

“Blessed! Yeah, I took Latin in high school.”

He nodded and smiled, but noticed how she fidgeted.

“Does the name mean anything to you?” he asked lightly, trying to hide his curiosity.

“Heh, no – yeah. Just a bit surprised. Is it a family name, like mine?”

“Grace is a family name?”

“Yes. My mama was Grace Lori. Well, the first born women in Mama’s family all have the name Grace as a first name.”

“Oh, indeed! Does this tradition go far back?”

“Eighteenth century, it seems. Got some paper about it somewhere. Which isn’t bad, considering. Not easy to dig deep if there’s no information… as we know.”

“Information… on your ancestors?”

“Yeah,” she said firmly. “I guess we’ve been lucky on my mom’s side.”

“I am glad to hear that,” he said sincerely, and she saw that he meant it and understood. There were so many difficult topics that they had covered already, and so many, many more discussions to have.

She noticed that he had a speck of chocolate in the corner of his mouth just then. She discreetly pointed to him and then to the side of her own mouth. He instantly caught on and removed it with his pointy finger.

She peered up at him. “I bet you can reiterate your whole pedigree back to Adam?” she said teasingly. But she honestly wondered how that might feel. To know. To have so much history.

He looked embarrassed with chocolate on his finger. She was ready to hand him a napkin, but he quickly licked his finger instead and looked very pleased with himself while doing so. His tongue was as pink as his lips. Indulgent. Actually: indecent.

_Down, girl. He has a sort-of-wife in another dimension. Still a wife, though._

“Hmm, yes,” Crane replied. “But I was eager to leave the most of it behind. Although it is a great privilege to have knowledge of one’s ancestors for several generations. Ichabod is a family name in the Crane line. Old Testament, just like your own. A male in almost every generation was the unlucky recipient.”

She grinned at ‘unlucky’. He could be so annoyingly adorable. Quite the Austen hero, only earlier than her heroes.

“But the name Bennet was from my mother’s side; my mother’s last name, as a matter of fact.”

“Your mother’s last name was _Bennet_?” she exclaimed.

“Indeed! You _are_ familiar with it! The Bennets of –”

“No, not really,” she interrupted. “I just… Oh God, next thing you’ll tell me is that your mother’s first name was Elizabeth or something!”

His eyes were round with surprise.

“How did you know!?”

The sounds from the coffee shop was almost deafening as they stared at one another.

“Your mother’s name was Elizabeth Bennet!” Abbie sounded almost accusing.

“Yes. Why do you look so stunned, Lieutenant?”

“Okay… I’m gonna lend you a book and I expect you to finish it until tomorrow night, because then we’re gonna have a movie night at my place.”

“A ‘movie’ night?”

“Yeah, a living pictures theatre on my television set, a movie called Pride and Prejudice, just like the book I’m gonna lend you!”

“Does it… have horse riding apes in it?”

“No. OK, yes. But not like that. C’mon, get your tea, we need to get back to the precinct.”

 

**_Four years later._ **

The bed in the maternity ward was strictly speaking a bit too narrow for a couple sitting side by side and leaning on pillows propped up against the headboard. But they did it all the same; baby in Crane’s arms and Abbie leaning snuggly on his shoulder while both of them gazed down on their little miracle.

“Are you sure you don’t want her first name to be Grace?” Crane mumbled into Abbie’s hair and kissed it.

“Yeah, I just like Sarah Grace better than Grace Sarah. And a name from the Old Testament feels like the right thing, since our names are from the Old Testament,” Abbie said and lightly stroked the dark curls on the baby’s head.

“Large names to carry, laden with sorrow and expectation,” he remarked lightly. “And now Sarah, a miniscule but absolute ruling queen.” The baby made some noises of contentment.

“Are you having regrets about the name choices?” she whispered and kissed his neck.

“Not at all. But which name do we call her?”

“Actually… Shouldn’t we have a name from your side as well? Grace is my family name,” she offered.

“What do you have in mind?” he asked and looked at her affectionately. He looked as tired as she felt after what had finally been a successful breastfeeding, but they were both so filled with complete joy. Sleep had to wait.

“Your mother’s name was Elizabeth. How about Sarah Elizabeth Grace?”

She could tell that he was moved. Her man was able to look at her and now their child in so many different, loving ways, he truly possessed a gift for that. Now, with tears threatening to spill and a look of absolute awe, she knew that she had yet again made him the happiest man on earth.

“It’s… yes,” was all he managed to say. She had made him speechless; that was always a feat.

“Yes?” she asked and smiled.

“Yes,” he confirmed in an unstable but determined voice.

“And we call her Elizabeth, or maybe Elizabeth Grace?”

He could only nod. She kissed him and he responded warmly. Their small child with such a tall name fidgeted and raised a tiny fist.

“Ahh, see – she likes it!” Abbie said, surprised that it was something between a giggle and a sob. Apparently, she was quite moved herself. “Tiny fist bump,” she grinned, and nudged her daughter’s little fist lightly with her knuckles. Crane chuckled, both Abbie and the baby felt the vibration from his chest.

Abbie and Crane smiled at one another once again; silly grins of happiness and fulfilment. Then, Abbie had a thought and looked at him sternly:

“But we are _not_ going to call her Betsy!”

Crane gasped and scoffed so hastily that the baby protested. Abbie burst out laughing.

“Good God, no!” he exclaimed. He carefully rocked their child and calmed down enough to grin at Abbie’s cheek. The baby stilled in his arms and again they looked down at her in loving wonder.

“I think Lizzy will be a perfect nickname, my beloved Lieutenant – don’t you agree?”


End file.
